Pits and pockmarks flit and dart across an infinite ceiling. Random synchronicity plays patter song stupor and languidity The orchestra conducting purple and yellow to a sparkling, a crushing crescendo falls like a wave on tastebuds, tempting.
She lingers like fog on a pane of glass A sharp signature impaled on a pile of dreaming dust.
Like a rushed column updraft through a house of leaves blank and staring.
A mark from the back of your palms up. Your fingers stuck signing a language sang by the blind.
How did she stay so long A force hidden in neuron canyons. A Gypsy camp lodged between cortexes spinning silk into a muffled gasp, a conspiratory shuffle.
She lingers like spines of glass in nailbeds, planted sweetly, with the best of care.
Laughter in an asylum electroshock dreams soaked in sweat.
Grabbed my brain like a chemical symphony. Painted pictures of pivotal seconds, wrapped up and romanticized. Dreamt about.
Your lilting language planted little honeypots deep in my palms. Sparked fire from entropy lighting a city in my chest.
But now these buildings tower like Goliath in David’s dreams. I need to escape I need to slide out of this sleep you’ve monopolized.
******* dreams like smokering fingerprints left on the cleft of my conscience.
The old taqueria on Victory. The Bourgeois Pig. The bitter spice of winter painted over the cracks crumbling the walls.
These waking hallucinations haunt my habits. Still frequent the holeinthewall dives in my heart.